Comfort
by flowerinthedistance
Summary: "Haymitch was no longer surprised to be woken by the sound of sobbing at his door in the middle of the night. In fact, ever since Effie had moved in with him in District 12, it had become a regular occurrence." Post-war Hayffie oneshot. Haymitch is Effie's only source of comfort when the nightmares visit. [Haymitch/Effie]


**Hello!** **This is just a little oneshot I wrote a while ago and forgot about. I found it today and thought I'd post it because it wasn't as bad as I expected. I'm in love with this pairing so I hope you enjoy!**

 **Disclaimer** **: I don't own the Hunger Games. All credit for characters/setting/plot goes to Suzanne Collins.**

 **o~*~o**

 **Comfort**

 **o~*~o**

Haymitch was no longer surprised to be woken by the sound of sobbing at his door in the middle of the night. In fact, ever since Effie had moved in with him in District 12, it had become a regular occurrence. Since the war had ended, she had been plagued by nightmares almost every night. The memories of her capture and the things she witnessed after weren't easy to forget.

Haymitch stared out into the darkness, waiting. He knew the knock on the door would come soon enough. This unspoken arrangement had been in place since Effie had begun living with him - since he had found out about her nightmares. With Katniss mourning the loss of her sister and Peeta unfit to care for himself, let alone anyone else, Haymitch had been the only person to offer Effie a place to live when she finally admitted that the Capitol no longer felt like home to her. Since then, Haymitch had become the first person she could truly trust to talk about the inescapable nightmares that visited her after dark. Though their bickering and arguing continued, they became closer friends than either could have predicted.

The sound of knuckles connecting tentatively with the solid wood of his door caused Haymitch to rise from the warmth of his bed. He made his way across the room, stumbling slightly in the darkness. Somehow avoiding the empty bottles that littered the floor of his room, he reached the door and inched it open.

"Sweetheart, what a pleasant surprise," he said, his voice far from free of his customary sarcasm. Somehow, he still managed to sound kind.

"I couldn't sleep." She looked up through watery eyes. Her face was bare of makeup, but this was her preference since the end of the war. Her hair, however, was always covered, either by a silk wrap, as it was now, or by a wig.

"Come here," he sighed. She was inside the room in two steps and instantly found herself in the man's arms. She buried her head in his shoulder and he felt her body shake as silent tears escaped her.

Gently, he guided her towards his bed, supporting most of her weight. He sat her down on one side of it and took his place next to her, bringing her almost immobile body into his strong arms. He slowly swivelled her around so she was sat completely on the bed, legs stretched out in front of her as her back leant against the headboard. She relaxed into him as they assumed their usual position.

Haymitch exhaled slowly, "Tell me about it," he said softly, but with a determinedness that couldn't be argued with.

She sniffed shakily, "It was so _real_ , Haymitch," she whispered, her eyes wide and distant as she relived the nightmare again. He hated asking her to recall them, but he knew that talking about her demons was the only way to destroy them. Not like him - he still preferred to drown them until he didn't know what was real.

"They were hurting me," she continued, her hands beginning to tremble. "It hurt... so much... it hurt so much, but I couldn't stop them - they- they wouldn't _stop_ , Haymitch!"

"I know, I know, sweetheart," he soothed, "it's over now. They can't hurt you now." She sobbed into his shirt once again, leaving a patch of sodden material where her face rested, but he didn't care.

She resurfaced. "You were there." Her face hardened and Haymitch froze mid-breath. This was new. Never - _never_ had she mentioned his presence in one of her dreams. "So were the children," she continued. "You were laughing... all three of you. You didn't care, Haymitch. They were hurting me and none of you _cared_..." she sobbed. "That's what hurt the most."

This time, it was Haymitch's voice that spoke shakily. "I-I don't... I didn't..." He took a deep breath. "We did care Effie... so much. We thought you were dead, for God's sake!" he cried suddenly. She started and he was quick to squeeze her shoulder gently by way of assurance. Then he continued, "We thought you were dead. And it killed u- me. It killed me." She looked at him - right at him - with eyes wide and fragile. It felt to Haymitch as if she was seeking out the truth of his words from his very soul.

"You're not just saying that?" she asked, voicing her doubt, "to comfort me?"

"I mean it, Effie." She was still looking at him, but there was something more hopeful about her gaze now. "If I'd known you were captive on _our_ side..." he trailed off darkly.

"No, Haymitch," she warned firmly. "You would have gotten yourself into trouble. It was for the best that you didn't find out." Haymitch sighed, ready to come up with some other protestation to justify the guilt he felt, but Effie sunk back down into the comfort of his arms, effectively ending the conversation.

Even as Haymitch watched her, Effie's eyelids drooped to cover her bright blue irises. He stared, surprised. She had never stayed long - she always left once she had recovered from her nightmare. And yet, here she was, asleep in his arms. Haymitch shifted very slightly, suddenly unsure. This was a completely unfamiliar situation, one he wasn't used to. It most certainly wasn't part of their arrangement. That wasn't to say the idea of Effie sleeping in _his_ _bed_ didn't appeal to him - it did, very much so. He just wasn't sure she'd feel the same way about the prospect.

He shifted again, trying to decide what to do. But, in the end, he didn't have to make the decision; his anxious movements had woken her. She sat up and looked around until the momentary confusion resolved itself and was replaced by mild mortification.

"Did I... Did I fall asleep?" she whispered. He nodded wordlessly and she visibly winced. Haymitch's heart sunk despite his best efforts to remain unaffected by her reaction. He had been right - she wasn't nearly as inclined to stay the night as he was to accommodate her. Suddenly, Effie burst into apology after apology, far too flustered to listen to Haymitch's assurances.

"I'm so sorry Haymitch-"

"It's fine, I-"

"I didn't realise-"

"It really doesn't matt-"

"I should really get back to-"

"You don't have to go."

"What?" she asked, taken aback. Haymitch coughed awkwardly, cursing his own mouth and her selective hearing.

"I- uh... it was just a thought..." he mumbled, avoiding her soft gaze.

"What did you say, Haymitch?" she urged gently, her voice full of warmth and familiarity.

"You don't have to go," he mumbled, defeated.

His head was bowed, but he was watching her closely, expecting her to appear embarrassed or confused. "Alright then," was all she said. And she slipped underneath his covers again. He lifted his arm automatically and she shuffled into him, looking up at his face with a tiny smile on her lips. She lifted a hand, placing a single, well-manicured finger under his chin. Only then did he realise that his mouth was slightly open in surprise. He shut it hastily and her amused grin grew.

Removing her finger, she nestled into his side. He was extremely aware of how much closer she was to him than usual - or was he just imagining the breath tickling his exposed neck? He could hardly tell anymore; her proximity to him suddenly seemed to be heightening his senses.

Once again, she began to drop off before his eyes. This time, however, he felt sleep creeping up on him too, his body becoming heavy with fatigue. Sleepily, thoughtlessly, he placed a kiss on Effie's forehead. She smiled drowsily, barely managing to keep her eyes open. But somehow, she was awake enough to snake a hand behind his neck and gently bring his lips down to hers.

He didn't react at first, frozen by shock and disbelief, but, slowly, he began returning the kiss. Her lips were soft against his more rough ones, and the kiss was sweet and slow, both of them pouring unexplained, unspoken feelings into it. Haymitch felt the urge to deepen the kiss but he ignored it, unwilling to take advantage of an already fragile situation.

Eventually she drew back, and he couldn't help the frown from forming on his lips. She kissed him lightly again and sunk down into the bed, closing her eyes. He rested an arm over her - almost shielding her - as he lay down beside her.

"Effie?"

"Mm?" she said after a short silence.

"What you just did..." he whispered, her eyes barely opening to flit over his face. "It wasn't just for comfort, was it?"

"No, Haymitch," she breathed, the ghost of his earlier words forming unknowingly on her tongue. "I meant it."

 **o~*~o**

 **Thanks for reading! If you happen to be here wondering about the post-war story I promised in Stay Alive, I'm working on it. It's coming on slowly (more slowly than I'd like) but well. If you have no idea what I'm going on about but a post-war Hunger Games story takes your fancy, I'd love it if** **you'd follow me an you'll be alerted when I do finally post it :)**

 **Now, back to this story. If you have any thoughts, a review would make my day - I'm happy to chat if you have any questions or suggestions! I find Haymitch and Effie's relationship really interesting, especially the one hinted at towards the end of Mockingjay (particularly in the film), and I would like to explore it more if I get the chance. Let me know if you'd be interested in me writing some more oneshots in the future around the pairing.**

 **That's all from me for now. I'll get back to writing that post-war story :)**

 **flowerinthedistance x**


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